


Room to Breathe

by Bettybackintheday



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Assassins Admit to Feelings, F/M, Introspective Natasha, Mention of the Arrow Necklace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bettybackintheday/pseuds/Bettybackintheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately following the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha experiences a rare moment of contentment as she reflects on past events. Her short list of trusted allies has gotten surprisingly longer, but one name still stands above all the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room to Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/gifts).



> This fic was written for a Secret Santa exchange in December 2014. This story takes place at the very end of Captain America 2: Winter Soldier and grew around one small scene I couldn't help but see in my mind's eye -- Natasha seeing Clint leaning back against her Corvette. For some reason (!) that scene is still fav of mine.
> 
> Very special thanks to kiss_me_cassie for her kind comments and encouragement to continue posting my older fics. I've enjoyed re-reading these and hope those interested in the "ailing but still sailing" Clint/Natasha 'ship enjoy them, as well. If you must think of this as "re-gifting," please know that it's done in the most well-meaning of ways.

She turned away from Steve and Sam and began walking with purpose. She let them assume she was going back to her car. In reality, she didn't know where she was going. So, wandering the cemetery seemed perfectly reasonable. When was the last time she had the opportunity to wander anywhere, she wondered.

As Natasha Romanoff looked around, she was surprised to find that the cemetery made her feel calm. She felt like she had a little room to breathe.

How close had she come to ending up here? Not just over the past few days, but over the past few years, decades even? She shook her head to clear it. "Get a grip Widow. You're not exactly the introspective type," she sarcastically whispered to herself. He voice was lost to the soft breeze and gentle sunshine.

Then again, why not? Maybe she needed to take a look inside. Not too far inside, though. She didn't want to delve into the darkness without a lifeline to pull her back out. Yet, she needed to look below the surface because who she was on the outside wasn't really who she was. Or was it? It was getting harder and harder to keep track.

A lone bench sitting among mature trees seemed to beckon. She sat down and looked out at the many headstones, each one bearing the name of a person lost to this world. Nobody she knew, but certainly these folks were important to someone. Who would she be important to?

Before she could stop it, a long-forgotten memory surfaced in her mind. She let it play out.

\--------------

It was her third mission with Clint and they had made a mess of things. The objective was acquired (well, disposed of, as it were), but the collateral damage was well over budget. No innocents were killed or permanently injured, thankfully, though a few had some nasty bumps and bruises that would require hospital stays. And that added to the ever-growing mountain of paperwork and ballooning bottom line. It was so bad that, after visual confirmation that his team was indeed alive and well, Coulson just ushered them passed Hill and into the director's office without comment.

As the pair sat in Director Fury's office waiting for him to speak, Natasha glanced over at Clint. He sat with perfect posture and stared straight at Fury. It almost looked like he was daring his superior to challenge his handling of the incident. It was insulting, really. Notorious for his reprimands when things went south, Fury still had nothing on Natasha. She had already read Barton the riot act a thousand times over and with more venom than the combination of Fury, Coulson, Hill, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the Council, could possibly muster. If it weren't for Clint firing off the exploding arrow that brought down the entire warehouse - and a few surrounding small buildings - the mission would've ended cleanly, ahead of schedule, and under budget. The fact that she would be dead was a minor detail.

"Agents," Fury calmly addressed them both. "It's been a long time since I've seen a cluster fuck like this. I won't go into the details because you'll have more than enough time to get intimate with them as you wade through the boxes of paperwork it will take to file your reports. What I will say is that IF that three-ring circus you created ever comes to town again…" he paused for dramatic effect, looked directly into Clint's eyes and spat out, "pun intended…" Then sat back and looked back and forth between them for the remainder of his lecture. "… I will disavow each one of you and throw your asses out on the street. Am I clear, agents?"

Without missing a beat, Natasha replied, "Yes, sir. Crystal." She lied right through her teeth. If roles had been reversed, she knew she would've done the same thing. She couldn't let Barton die. She'd been his partner for only six months at that point and had known him less than a year. Yet, he'd saved her life twice already. She owed him. What she couldn't figure out was why he kept investing in her.

All eyes turned to Clint. "Agent Barton?" growled Director Fury.

"Sir, with all due respect, you better find an additional funding stream to handle any future cluster fucks," said Clint conversationally. "Agent Romanoff and I make a kick-ass team and you can't afford to NOT have us out in the field. So, I will do whatever it takes to get the job done AND get us both back as intact as possible."

He stole a quick glance at Natasha as he continued. "I consider Agent Romanoff S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most valuable asset and promise to have her back at all times. Take it or leave it, boss," concluded his no-nonsense response.

With that, Strike Team Delta was born.

\---------------

The faintest hint of a smile ghosted across Natasha's face at the memory. S.H.I.E.L.D. had been her enemy one minute and her saving grace the next. The smile faded as she realized that the tables had been turned on her once again. S.H.I.E.L.D. was infected by Hydra and now had to operate in the shadows, if at all. The agency was shattered and nobody knew what to expect next. And even worse, nobody knew where Clint was. What she did know was that she could count the number of people she trusted on one hand.

The buzzing of her Stark phone interrupted her thoughts just as she started mentally counting her allies. Reluctantly, she pulled it from her pocket. Only a select few people had this number and even fewer were the number of people she really wanted to talk to. If she were being honest, there was only one she wanted to talk to. And it wasn't Pepper Potts.

"Hello, Pepper," she answered.

"Natasha. Thank you for taking my call. I'm sure you're not in the mood to talk, but I'm really glad you answered," spoke Pepper in a genuinely caring tone.

Natasha allowed the smile to creep back for a second. Sometimes she didn't give Pepper enough credit. Being Tony Stark's significant other only meant she had questionable judgment in men. In every other aspect, Pepper knocked it out of the park. As much as she tried not to, Natasha couldn't help but like her.

"Well, you're not wrong, but I also know you don't call me just to chit chat, so there must be a reason. What is it?" said Natasha.

"Let me say first of all, that when all this Hydra business gets wrapped up, I do want to call you to chit chat," answered Pepper. "But that's not today. The reason I called was to encourage you to stay at the Tower."

Immediately Natasha cut off any further conversation. "I really appreciate the offer, Pepper. Honestly, I do. But I told you before that I just don't see myself living there."

"I know what you said before and I respect that. I'm not expecting you to move in permanently. Just stay here until you and the rest of the… I don't know? Do I call you Avengers?" she asked. Her confusion was evident. "Oh, whatever. You know who I'm talking about. I want all of you here in one place until we get a handle on this. Will you consider it?"

Natasha had to take a few seconds to organize her argument. On the one hand, she didn't want to be surrounded by people. On the other hand, the thought of being alone right now wasn't very appealing. "Pepper, I –"

"Clint agreed," was Pepper's short response.

Natasha was stunned. Not an everyday occurrence. "He what? You talked to him? Is he there now? Is he ok?" came her rapid-fire questions.

Pepper laughed. "I spoke to him a few hours ago. He's making his way back to New York. He sounded tired, which might explain why he didn't put up a fight. I didn't want to lead with the Clint Card, but I need to get you here. So, yeah…"

"Clint Card?" growled Natasha.

She could hear Pepper waving her hands at the other end of the line. "Look, not only do I think you'll be safer here than wandering around with a target on your head, but I also think I'll feel better if you're all here to protect each other. And me," she sheepishly added. "Selfish, right?" she asked.

Natasha shook her head. "No, not selfish, Pepper," Natasha said quietly, but firmly. "It's actually a strong person who admits they need support. That's all you had to say. You can keep the Clint Card in your back pocket. And speaking of him, what did he say? Where is he?"

"Actually, he called Tony when he couldn't get through to you. We didn't know much at the time, but filled him in on what we could. He wouldn't say where he was, but he's on his way now and that's all that matters." Natasha could tell Pepper was smiling as she spoke.

"Well, then, I guess I'll grab my bag and be in New York in a few hours. Thank you, Pepper," said Natasha.

In the background, suddenly Natasha heard the familiar voice of Tony Stark. "No, no, no… Pep, don't hang up! Gimme the phone… Hey, Red, how's it goin'?" asked the billionaire with less snark than usual in his voice.

"Tony," sighed Natasha, "what do you want? I'll see you in a few hours, lucky me. Can your questions wait?"

"Well, the kinder, gentler me wants to know how you're holding up? Got any issues we should know about before you move in? Are you a loose canon?" *thwack* "Ouch! Hey, Pep! No using StarkPads as lethal weapons!"

"Tony! How dare you ask her that?" came the seething reply, clearly audible on the other end.

"Stark, I haven't lost my marbles. And honestly, it's a fair question. But still supremely annoying coming from you," replied Natasha. "I also doubt your concern is for my mental health. What else ya got?"

"Ok, look. I have JARVIS going through your massive information dump. Everything. There's hardly anything about the Avengers Initiative and there's even less about Barton," stated Tony. "We're doing what we can to remove the most sensitive information from the Net. If there's another code name besides Hawkeye, tell me what it is and I'll focus in on that and get it offline. I've done everything I can with everybody else, including you, but I can't find Barton."

Well, hell. Add Pepper Potts and Tony Stark to that growing list of people who just might care about her. Not allowing any emotion to seep through, Natasha replied, "You won't find much on him in that dump. That's all you need to know. See you tonight." As she went to disconnect the call, she realized she owed him a little gratitude for attempting to clean up her desperate maneuver. "Thanks, Tony. Sometimes I'm glad you're on my side." And she hung up.

On the other end of the call in New York, the genius wore a beaming smile. "Yeah, she likes me."

Natasha continued to sit on the bench and let the breeze gently blow a few stray hairs over her shoulder while she contemplated the phone call. Everyone else in the world was busy dissecting all the top-secret fodder that fell in their laps. Leave it to Stark to pick up on the information that WASN'T there.

Well, that was ok. Depending on how things played out, maybe she would tell him how she periodically broke into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database and added her own encryption to certain files. She couldn't cover up as much as she wanted to without raising red flags, so she made sure Clint's records got priority. She never told anyone, not even Clint, but she's pretty certain Coulson knew something was up. He never approached her about it and any suspicion he may have had about it died with him. He would appreciate the irony that Tony found out and couldn't keep his mouth shut. Maybe in honor of Coulson she would share that secret with Tony. Doubtful, but maybe.

Finally, she couldn't divert her train of thought any longer. Clint was ok! She suddenly had the urge to get up and jump for joy. Not very Natasha-like, but after spending so much energy trying not to worry about why he wasn't by her side saving the world – again – she felt the weight of that world lift from her shoulders. She still feared what condition he might be in after dealing with whatever it was that kept him away. But as long as his heart was beating, she felt she could get him through. Then maybe he could help her process what the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. meant to her past, present, and future.

Her hand went to the tiny arrow sitting at her throat. It was an impulse buy on a Saturday morning while walking through Capitol Hill's Eastern Market. The silver smith was talented and engaging. Of all his wares, she was drawn to the simple arrow. She didn't allow herself to dwell on what that meant or why she bought it or why she only wore it when she felt uneasy about missions she was on without Clint. The answer wasn't rocket science, so she avoided the question.

The thought of seeing Clint at the Tower in New York gave her a second wind. Feeling renewed, she got up from the bench and began to walk to her car. She wouldn't bother going back to her DC apartment. She had a bug-out bag in the trunk and it wouldn't take much convincing for a reasonable wardrobe to be provided courtesy of Stark Industries. Even with blood-thirsty operatives out to get her, she lost herself in a rare feeling of contentment. She began again to go over her list of trusted allies as she all but glowed in anticipation of seeing Clint -

leaning against her car.

If she hadn't momentarily lost the capacity for speech, she would've exclaimed something along the lines of "Oh, my God" or "holy shit." What actually came out was a gasp followed by complete paralysis. The feeling that overtook her was unexpected and raw. She heard the familiar words in her head, but in her own voice this time. Instead of pushing the feelings away, she let them wash over her. "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?"

Yes. Yes it is. And she began to run.

At the sight of Natasha running at breakneck speed right at him, Clint initially thought she was being chased. Well, not technically true. His first thought was that she looked alive and gorgeous and that he missed her even more than he originally thought and how much he had to atone for for not being there when she needed him. And then he thought she was being chased. But after a few seconds, it became clear that he was her target and she was laser focused on his form. He slowly, and painfully, pushed away from the car and took a few steps towards her sprinting form.

When she got to him, she threw her arms around his neck and they both stumbled back against the trunk of her vehicle. She held on with a strength that surprised Clint. He kept his arms wrapped around her waist and inhaled her scent. There had to be another word to describe his feelings for her. "Love" seemed too ordinary for such an extraordinary woman.

She loosened her grip and moved to stand in front of him. She gave him the most amazing smile. Only a flash at her neckline could pull his eyes away from her face. His glance was rewarded with the glint of a tiny silver arrow. Huh. Well, this was a conversation he was intrigued to have. He was broken out of his wonderment by her voice.

"Where have you been?" she asked without preamble.

"Long story," was his short reply in a raspy and tired voice.

"Well, I got nothin' but time, but give me the three sentence version for now."

He put his hands on her shoulders and held tight. After a deep breath to gather his thoughts, he said, "When you had to cancel our morning sparring session because you got the assignment with Cap to deal with the Lumerian Star, I got a call from Hill to meet up with the Toxic Twins."

Natasha suddenly tensed up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa… Manes and Gardner? Those incompetent klutzes? They've been on the same assignment for, what, like 10 months? Why?" she asked skeptically.

"Since you want the short story, let's just say they were taking full advantage of having free reign while feeding Hill a load of bullshit." He paused. "Hydra. Big time," his voice shook and his eyes grew dark. "When the shit storm hit here, they turned into completely different people. More like wild animals."

He took a step back from her and shook his head. "It was surreal. They really had a lot of pent-up aggression. Just fyi, they didn't like the fact that we bested them in every category known to S.H.I.E.L.D., or, whatever that organization is. Was. Anyway, they took me by surprise and let go with everything they had."

She stepped closer to him, but he moved away. "It… It was like Loki all over again. I felt like I had to kill them to survive. Part of my brain was screaming that these people were allies, the good guys. It couldn't be happening. Jesus, Tash, I let them beat me to within an inch of my life."

He lifted his head and looked into her wide eyes. "They were killing you," she whispered, "and you were afraid it was a trick."

He nodded. "But then, I remembered that Thor said Loki was dead. I figured his spell, if there was anything left to it, had to be dissolved by his death. And then I figured you'd get really pissed if I let these two kill me. So, I fought back. And you know what?" said Clint with a small smile and a brightness returning to his eyes. "They were even worse than we thought. Took me a while, but by my count there should be four more hydra operatives popping up, because I took those two down."

Natasha cocked her head to the left and looked sympathetic but confused.

"Ya know, kill one and two more take its place…" he mumbled, realizing his failure at the dark humor.

They had to look at it as kill or be killed, but she knew the pain he felt by adding two more to the body count. She frowned and moved toward him. This time he let her into his personal space. When she put her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest, he relaxed his stance and allowed his arms to drape over her shoulders.

"I couldn't reach you or Fury or Cap. In my desperation I called Stark. He and Pepper filled me in what was going on. I got back here as soon as I could without setting off any alarms. I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner."

Natasha just nodded her head against his chest. He knew she was glad to see him, but this was quite a lot of physical contact for her. He was not about to complain.

"Pepper asked me to stay at the Tower," he hesitated and then continued. "I said yes."

To his obvious shock, Natasha simply replied, "So did I."

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Why? Are you ok?" he asked with great concern.

She shrugged and smiled, "Let's just say I'm much better now."

She had the most beautiful smile. He wished she'd smile more, so he took in every detail while he could. He wanted her in every way possible. Had since he first spared her life and brought her to S.H.I.E.L.D. Which seemed like a good idea at the time. But, now… Did she hold that against him? He dealt with that tug-of-war of emotions the whole way back.

"I have to tell you something," she said with gravity.

Uh-oh. Here it comes… he thought.

"I had a little, well, no, not little, a huge epiphany about five minutes ago," she said.

"Look, Nat, we've been through a lot. The world as we know it just turned up-side-down -"

She put her finger to his lips to silence him. Then she gently reached up and removed his sunglasses. As her right hand held the glasses, her left hand snaked behind his neck. Her lips tentatively touched his in the most chaste of kisses.

When she pulled away, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. His eyebrows were nearly as high as his hairline.

"I don't know what's going to happen next. But, whatever that is, I want to face it together," she whispered.

"Together?" he squeaked out.

"Clint, I love you," she said barely above a whisper.

After replaying that over and over in his head a few times, he lifted her up and spun her around. She began to laugh. It was a glorious sound. It dulled all the pain – physical and emotional – that he had been feeling.

When he put her down, he cupped her face and asked, "Are you sure? I mean, me? I've loved you for as long as I've known you, but you loving -"

"What did you say?" she interrupted him.

He looked at her expression and wondered if she doubted for even a split second how he felt about her. "That I love you. I've loved you for years. Hell, I've been IN love with you since you ripped me a new one for blowing up that warehouse in Buffalo!"

Her smile grew impossibly bigger as she threw her arms around his neck. This kiss was anything but chaste. This was blood, sweat, and tears. This was healing wounds. This was the end of the world and the start of a new one.

"Let's get to New York," she said breathlessly as she got into the driver's side. "And here," she tossed her phone over to him.

"Why did you just give me your phone?" he asked, still flushed from their kiss.

She started the car and pulled out of the cemetery quickly, yet respectfully. "Because you're calling Pepper and letting her know she only needs to prepare one room."


End file.
